The man who followed her in obviously wasn't with her. He was tall, wore serious spectacles, and had a professorial stoop that went with his leather-elbow-patched jacket. "You're Eckert?"

“Yessir. You must be Dr. Eastman. We're all so glad you were able to interrupt your busy schedule to fill in for Ms. Jackson."

“While I was surprised you didn't contact me first," he said, "I've known Julie for years and couldn't refuse to fill in for her at this terrible time. I'm used to lecturing knowledgeable graduate students, however, not amateurs.”

Jane bridled at the way he said "amateurs," as if it were a slightly obscene word. Someone gave a small and very ladylike snort. Jane guessed it was Miss Martha Winstead. It wasn't nearly raucous enough to be Ursula.

Ursula herself promptly spoke up, though she hadn't been addressed. "My good sir, most of thegreat discoveries of mankind were made by amateurs, though that fact is often covered up." She waved her arm victoriously and an eyeglass repair kit fell out of her sleeve. "Intelligent amateurs can often see on overview what experts are too deeply into precious details to see. 'Amateur' is a flattering term."

“This isn't getting off to a good start," Jane whispered to Shelley.

“Probably more interesting than a 'lecture,' though," Shelley replied just as quietly. "This looks like a man who could bore us to sleep in five minutes or less.”

Another man entered the room and aborted any reply the professor might have made by asking, "Is this the botany class?" He was around forty years old and looked as if his slacks and shirt, as well as his thinning hair, had just been starched and ironed a moment ago. He had a round, shining clean face, eyeglasses that gleamed, and highly polished shoes.